


Hic Sunt Dracones

by toads_in_my_pockets



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Inter-House Friendships, Multi, NEWT desperation drives our friends spare, alternative careers, cupboard cruising, dragon booties, future anxieties, grindylow farming, library after hours, tired cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29782953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toads_in_my_pockets/pseuds/toads_in_my_pockets
Summary: Like most of her peers Hum loses herself a bit in the months leading to NEWT examinations - but respite is ever close if she keeps her eyes open. 7th year timelinewise.
Relationships: Charlie Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Player Character (Hogwarts Mystery) & Charlie Weasley, Player Character (Hogwarts Mystery)/Charlie Weasley





	Hic Sunt Dracones

It was well past curfew when Hum Battenburg made her way out of the Hufflepuff common room; on all fours and vigilant like a civet, her face scrunched in intense concentration lest she be doused in vinegar, again. Happened often enough in the past!

The party raging behind would hardly stop raging with her missing – and there was lot on her mind tonight even without the whirlwind of food, music and this many new and old faces alike. She felt a little bit over-satiated, on most fronts, and it didn’t help that she agreed to taste-test at least three different types of cake that Penny had produced in the kitchens that afternoon.

Her pockets were filled with biscuits and cookies now, wrapped neatly in pale yellow paper packets that Penny had folded with practiced ease. Too much ease in fact; her blonde friend had been slipping into repeated patterns of organizing things recently- packing things, labeling, archiving-

The stress of examinations fast approaching did them all no favours, and Penny relied on taming all the smallest things around her now. Just the other day she had finished colour coding all three years worth of notes, an endeavor only surpassed by Rowan doing all seven. She’d been going through the textbooks too, brewing every elixir she could one after another, in preparation of what she saw as inevitable failure surely to come. Most of their friends were roped into hunting for the ingredients needed, at some point.

“You just don’t understand”, she said the other day to a sympathetic Rowan, when they were hunched over a particularly botched _Baruffo’s_ that she herself had butchered, swapping a toad brain for frog’s absent-mindedly. “It’s either I pass with flying colours – or my life might as well end before it begins. _Everything,_ my whole life rides on this potion-gods _it’s going to explode_ -”

She turned to baking then, as means of getting back in tune with herself, sneaking into the kitchens on occasions when any of her friends would be serving a detention, feeding four houses with increasingly sophisticated confections. So engrossed was she in fine-tuning her instincts in fact, that not even once did Penny notice Hum sneaking off the kitchens.

No one knew what she was doing on those evenings, and it felt rather liberating.

Hum _did_ feel guilty leaving her friends to their pursuits, unable to help them in any sizable way. But then again, if she hadn’t helped herself now, she would’ve been the one left in dust first.

_Everything_ rode on the subtle concoction maturing in that wondrous room that Rowan had had found all those years ago, and she’d be damned if anyone could stop her in her tracks-

She didn’t know why she hadn’t made her way to the Slytherin’s common room then, and to the great staircase instead – it wasn’t her and Charlie’s night to patrol the corridors, it wasn’t time to add anything to both of her projects,official, and less than official alike. As far as she knew everybody stayed in their own dormitories tonight or went to the Hufflepuff party, too tired after the last sleepover had ended up with no one being actually able to fall asleep for long. 

She did sleep with Charlie’s hand in her own - so that was a definite plus.

She could guess she was just bored then, permanently unsleepy these days yet perpetually dead on her feet. “Get used to it”, Moody barked at her the other day, irritated. Apparently this was what adulthood was, constant vigilance.

Hum made sure to pay careful attention to her surrounding now – she didn’t want to be caught with illegal contraband in her pockets, a special prefect or not. She was pretty sure students weren’t allowed to actually use the kitchens. Better not to leave any evidence.

The newfound freedom to roam the castle after curfew - a privilege granted to seventh year students cramming for NEWT examinations with desperate abandon – had lost its freshness quick enough. All they did was actually spend time in the library – or snog in a cabinet here and there. More often than not it was Hum and Charlie or another pair of prefects who would have to chase them away, instead of getting into the cupboards themselves. 

Having prefects in seventh year was a one time _novum_ that the school board of directors had come up with. If you asked Hum, it was strictly to keep them from the Vault business. It was indeed very difficult to sneak off for anything these days, strictly because of the ever growing list of daily tasks to fulfill. Dumbledore seemed to have found a perfect way to contain his most rebellious student – drive her to the ground with utter, soul-crushing boredom, all day.

_Fine with me,_ Hum thought a bit wistfully, kicking an invisible pebble with a belligerent grimace. She scowled at the mute suit of armor as if it was accusing her of lying. “No, I’m not fine, _I’m livid”_ she told it in a frail tone and felt immediately very silly. 

She leaned against the armor, deep in thought. “I guess I just feel so–constrained” she shared in a small voice. Here she was, talking to the armor. Maybe she should’ve continued with that ‘primal’ therapy-

The teen blinked a few frustrated tears away; she hated having hours of her time shaved off for useless, menial jobs; hated that she had hardly had time for any independent magic of her own, and what to say of her friends–

-hated that managing the students was more like herding feral cats than dealing with actual human beings – she hated being a prefect overall. Their responsibilities were a drag, their privileges a sham, and it was a mystery why Dumbledore has continued granting her the title thrice in a row – and with Rowan as the best Head Girl Hogwarts had seen in decades _why_ there was even the need to have additional prefects for their year was beyond her-

If Hum hadn’t thought about Charlie yet, it was only to spare herself a very unique blend of frustration, reserved for the special hours just before the dawn broke – they were relegated to the deepest part of her brain otherwise, a tight lid shutting them well dead. She did have a grand ambitions to chase after all and Dumbledore was limiting her enough as it was-

She wanted to kick something, or maybe hurt herself a bit now, so that some other part of her would take some damage for a change – but thought better of it, if only because her pretty slippers would get ruined. 

Tonks’ robes swallowed her a little bit as she walked; her friend hardly cared for clothes regulations and happily went muggle all day - and those school robes were the only clean ones left on the pile that Hum had found this morning. Hers were lost to Jae’s slender frame a while ago – for all appearances, Hum was a Hufflepuff prefect strangely favouring the Snakes. She was pretty sure her necktie belonged to Charlie now and she had Barnaby’s instead; it surprisingly reached to her belly button after all.

It was fun sleeping in one dormitory – and Hum was going well mad without constant companionship when she wasn’t isolating herself on purpose.

Perhaps she was restless then, bored out of her wits – books could help then. She used to spend hours in the library, researching intentionally the most off-topic issues that she, Tulip and Rowan could find. _Recondite Librarians_ , Tulip would call them, her _l_ ’s and _r_ ’s switching every once in a while on purpose. She last talked to Tulip properly three days ago, now that Hum thought of it, a thoughtful finger on her chin. She was there during the sleepover though…

How many of them kept secret activities from each other these days?

“Not too late for studying, child?”, a tall portrait to the left threw, not unkindly, as Hum stepped on the ascending staircase in the waning torchlight. It _was_ late if those were slowly dying out. 

“Just restless, might as well read some”, the girl mumbled as she clutched the worn banister and fought not to close her eyes. Seven years already, and going up and down on those hellish platforms made her palms clammy every time. No wonder Orion had gently dissuaded her from taking Skye’s advice on joining the team.

“Instincts without bravery won’t let you ascend, little grass snake”, he said and she agreed, _now_. Naturally back then he didn’t stay on the broom in his poised and one-legged glory for long. “Descended pretty fast I see”, was her haughty come back from above as Hum pocketed her wand. 

To his credit he gave a good laugh once he hit the grass all from the dizzying height of around four feet - and stayed on his back, drawing the shapes in the sky with an outstretched finger. Damn this boy made her foam at her mouth. “Duly noted!”, he shouted after her as the girl stormed from the pitch, still on the grass where she had left him. She was sure he’d say clouds inspired him or some other bull if she stayed then.

Now it only made her chuckle, years after their old captain had graduated and the team famously went into dust. How could Gryffindor keep winning otherwise? Surely not because of its new captain’s brilliance-

Oh right, there was yet another captain now so they no longer won-

This did give her a petty smile as Hum reminisced - and immediately grimaced in guilt.

_Who cares about quidditch anyway - only about the players, for certain_ , she thought quickly but still a bit guiltily. The familiar identifying spell in the library caused her to perk up quick enough as she crossed the threshold though; bless this school for keeping Madame Pince off their backs those few precious hours late in the night.

Moving in the heavy, almost sticky net of this invasive new magic, set up to protect the books in the absence of an adult, felt hardly comfortable; then again Madame Pince would set up a camp in the middle of the library otherwise. Hum could stomach a magical tag on her back for this small pleasure.

It looked empty in there, maybe because of that unofficial party in Hufflepuff she had just ditched. Just maybe. Faint magical lights burning here and there got easily swallowed by the darkness stretching below the tall bookcases as Hum made her way farther between the rows. 

These days she enjoyed holing up as far as her legs felt like carrying her, and tonight it would be a comfortable nook between “Aquatic – scales” and “Land – scales”. Kingdom to anyone well versed in the system. “You need to follow the instinct, the–scent, like a bloodhound”, Rowan would say about it but maybe Hum just didn’t pick it up yet.

She did smell something sweet now, true and Hum stopped in her tracks abruptly, from where she was perched on the cabinet base, fishing a large tome on hobby farming grindylows. 

The lettering on the frontispiece said ‘ _The author had lost most of his fingers pursuing this passion – but nevertheless hopes this little book finds some readership. It will surely fulfill its purpose if fewer fingers are lost thereon’_ and Hum could not feel any more interested in retaining her fingers. She enjoyed scaling up the bookcases – the thrill of the forbidden made her a bit dizzy in her head.

Clearly, she took her chances at frolicking whenever she could these days.

_Back to the smell_ , she thought, jumping on the ground in what she hoped was an elegant, quiet leap. She wanted to examine the matter.

Could somebody be there after all? Most everyone in their year were downstairs – no one cared for a little vinegar anymore. Charlie was supposed to be sleeping off after last night, and Talbott had an auspiciously antisocial cold – surely none of them would think of sneaking out in here…?

Naturally, one of them could.

She tried to be sneaky when she made her way to where Charlie had been hunched over some three tomes, further ten spread around him like world’s least effective fort. Hum could bet it was _healing arts_ that pinned him down tonight – it was next on his task list after all, straight after _binding spells_ -along with getting in ridiculously good shape in order to work in the field safely.

Hum stood still for a while, observing how the young man in front of her cross-referenced something, noting down a question or a key word on his parchment; how his broad shoulders slumped in a tired position, elbows on the desk and chin in his left palm.

Hum hoped she hadn’t been noticed yet – she knew her sneaking around creeped out some of the students, and anyone could probably feel a bit off put in this situation. Perhaps she ought to speak up- but she got distracted watching him sketch a tiny Swedish short-snout on top of his parchment roll. 

She waited for it – and sure enough, he charmed it to breathe fire that bordered the exposed part of the parchment neatly. He must’ve taught himself this one after Badeea mentioned it in passing once.

The collar of Charlie’s shirt rode down the nape of his neck when he lowered his head to rest his cheek against the table for a while, and she could see that his skin was flushed, probably because of the late hour and all the tiredness. 

Hum didn’t really know what it was about, but there was something vulnerable about such partial nakedness – and just the tiniest bit enticing? Or maybe she was an author of filthy Georgian erotica in her previous life if exposed necks sent her into lusty stupor-

_It’s one in the morning, relax_ , she thought, too tired for usual bluntness toward herself. She looked at Charlie’s back wistfully – perhaps it would be best to leave him to study in peace. Or maybe fetch him and go to sleep; they both needed it. It’s not like classes were cancelled after all – tired or not, it was expected that they show up. Maybe with everyone asleep at the Hufflepuffs they could sneak off into the dungeons and catch some rest together – sleep came easier when they were curled into each other, miraculous as it was when it happened.

Hum took a quiet step forward, thinking that right now the prospect of shared warmth looked more enticing than farming grindylows in the event that her project didn’t come through, even with the promise of all her fingers left intact. She longed to plaster herself to the burly boy in front of her and bury her face in his locks - and the thought had her warm all over, where previous tiredness had her stone cold.

The girl had noticed that Charlie’s hair got longer, closer to Bill’s, a while ago – but now she saw that they lost their fiery lustre as well. She could see that he, much like herself and most of their friends, had also studied at the expense of meals and rest time.

Preparations had worn him down too, then, and Hum felt how painfully constricted her throat had suddenly grown to feel.

From time to time a most strange feeling briefly came over her, in moments like this or in the middle of most menial of tasks – she’d be quizzing s friend, chasing after studenst after curfew or scrubbing the cauldrons like the first year that Snape loved to relegate her to–

\- and this would happen, this flooding of goopy warmth enveloping her legs and putting her belly - and heart - and lungs on mild fire. Hum had no precise words for it for now – and stubbornly refused to rely on romance talks, if reality proved richly ambiguous on the topic on top of that; those weren’t her stories.

Or perhaps relying on stories was the exact problem here.

The girl didn’t feel like sneaking on the redhead anymore, certainly didn’t want to scare him. Just a cuddle and a short conversation before sleep maybe. Mostly though she wanted to give Charlie an encouraging hug, a belated hello after a full day of chasing golden fumes; they were always good with those, even when new reality was fast approaching and ever demanding. 

He was studying in a hidden nook, flanked by the bookshelves that opened to form a sizeable niche. _Hic Sunt Dracones_ was emblazoned in golden cursive on the designated plaque overhead. Aptly named.

“It does say there be dragons and look at _that_ ”, she whispered theatrically when she was close enough to be heard and Charlie jerked his head up in a startled motion. He was a bit bleary eyed but smiled at her all the same, arm reaching behind and palm brushing against hers; Hum caught it surely, stepping closer.

“Can’t sleep as well?”, he asked, pressing her hand to his chest as Hum sneaked her second arm around him, pressing her cheek to his neck in turn. This felt good, safe. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to sniff him discreetly-

“Can’t, but this puts me at ease – can I kiss you?”, Hum’s last words were mumbled and the redhead nodded and shivered when she gave his neck a quick tender kiss. “Yup, energized”.

Charlie smiled weakly to that, his lips on her pulse point for a fleeting second next. “Should be enough to reach the dormitory”, he murmured. No mention which one, already promising. He didn’t move though; they both were sluggish this late – Hum chose to bury herself against him for a while then. Squish him a little maybe. No need to rush anything.

“Dumbledore giving you grief?” Charlie wanted to know in a quiet murmur, probably feeling how tense she was, and knowing rather well how her meetings with the Headmaster usually went. Hum hiding in the crook of his neck only further was rather self-explanatory. 

The Headmaster made it no secret that he wanted his pupil well aware of just how exacting the art and science of alchemy was - and ever tired in its pursuit she grew. Surely a girl could seek solace like this, then, buried into Charlie like a horseshoe crab in the sand.

The girl felt like an ostrich hiding, a bumblebee lost deep in the fragrant calyx–

Hum could probably fall asleep right about now, with how much nonsense went through her head.

“Considering alternative career already”, she joked weakly instead. To a degree, she actually did. But she needed freedom of movement here, a degree of secrecy. Charlie would hopefully understand.

“ _Grindylow farming without losing–fingers_ \- Hum, this book is going to bite you”, the redhead chuckled when he spotted the tome she’d put on the table, head leaning back and tension leaving his body at last. She put her chin on top of Charlie’s head and _hmph_ -ed thoughtfully

“How come?”

“Middle of the book, it’s a joke of sorts”, Charlie began, caressing the spine of the book carefully– it gave a low murmur then and Hum straightened herself, very curious now. She gave it an analytical once-over but it was obvious she was dying to explore hands-on. A sentient book – or clever spell mechanism?

“Sounds cute. Like a kneazle…”

“Open it if you want”, the boy dared her to with a wink and Hum blinked, looking down on him with gimlet eyes. He knew she’d do it even without goading, but now she was dead tired, running on fumes - and in severe need of enrichment.

“Oh you know I will”,

She stretched her hand down, Charlie’s palm closing around her elbow delicately. They shared a stupid smile between each other, content like two toddlers about to stick a pair of scissors into an electric socket - Charlie probably wouldn’t get that comparison, but he surely had done his own share of stupid dares before. The redhead enjoyed an occasional show-off.

“Okay, I’m opening it now”, Hum lilted, curious to the point of her body vibrating and the tip of her tongue sticking out in intense concentration – a book on Grindylows that bites you, most charming.

The book opened in the middle without much problems; clearly generations of curious students came before her, and Hum put her finger on the page, experimentally. Then she started turning the page-

“Have you heard this–giggling?”, Charlie asked suddenly, before she could do this fully, and Hum stalled. Yes, _she had._

They listened intently and sure enough, a tentative pitter-patter of steps was moving closer at first – and then started faltering. Someone gave a muffled snicker.

“This school, I swear-”.

“Reckon it’s never been this bad as this year”, Charlie said pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Something about our year being most unwieldy to date, I’d wager”, Hum murmurs in the low voice, left hand reaching for her wand. She could hex whoever was out there this late with her eyes closed – but she forgot her finger was still in-between the pages.

_CHOMP_

“ _BOLLOCKS_ ”, she almost screeched but it came as a muffled moan with Charlie’s hand secured gently against her mouth just in time. His body was shaking as he tried not to laugh out loud, his eyes on her, half amused, half vigilant for any distress.

“I’m no longer–considering _this_ a viable career alternative”, Hum managed to hiss in between trying to breathe in and out in a sensible manner. Charlie scoffed in amusement and stood up, enveloping her in a hug that brought no small amount of comfort to the sufficiently chastised girl.

“I knew it would bite me,”, she murmured, grateful for Charlie massaging her aching hand delicately. It did feel better quickly enough, and the redhead gave her hair a kiss to top it off.

“You waltzed right in there, very brave, very daring”, the boy assented cheerfully. “We can chase the rule breakers if it will improve your mood?”

“Or we could just go to sleep”, Hum spoke quietly, eyes on the magical lights that began to wane one by one – an established sign that no matter your academic ambitions, you had to leave. Hum had a recurring curiosity to test the matching penalty on herself – or perhaps goad somebody more willing into it? She could get back at Tonks for having her ears sprout pink hair for the last month…

“Are those Penny’s biscuits in your pockets??”, Charlie asked against her hair – _did he sniff her neck too?_ \- his hand already dipping in there, nimble like a niffler. He _did_ love those sweets after all.

“Yes, I took some for you and the one germy boy in the Hospital Wing. Those are yours”.

They left the library soon afterwards, the last lights extinguishing as they went; soon enough the whole library went dark, lit only by long slices of moonlight falling from the tall windows along the wall. Hum often sneaked into the library after hours, in search of its surreal quietness – tonight however she was mostly interested in making use of the unexpected time she and Charlie got together.

“Can I interest you-in the picnic– in that one cupboard over there?”. Speaking with his mouth full her companion was careful when eating, but their brisk pace was guaranteed to leave a trail of crumbs behind. He swished his wand after a thoughtful silence then and the trail got cleared – Charlie picked up his mother’s neat disposition to the largest degree out of the boys.

It was amusing that he mentioned a cupboard just when Hum had been bemoaning their missing this cult Hogwarts experience – but it could very well be that they would simply lose themselves in discussing their respective days. in there. Not much could beat those cuddle sessions where they talked at leisure.

The cupboard Charlie had mentioned was situated deep behind a statue of a humpback centaur in a corridor to their right. It was a defunct supply closet, its door hanging slightly off the hinges – but the privacy was a tempting prospect here. Just last week they caught five pairs canoodling in there, including two fourth year girls braiding their hair lovingly. She couldn’t possibly take any points for _that_.

Anyway, on to the cupboard – and to no one’s surprise it had been already occupied.

“Hello, kindly go to your dormitories, eh?”. Charlie put his hand on the doors he had opened, peering at the pair sitting inside with friendly smile. A yellow tie and green one, common combination. “There’s something about us, you know we go well together”, Penny used to say about her crush on a Slytherin sixth year beater, Serena Wright. Serena did look somewhat similar to Aurelie, so the fabled Slytherin to Hufflepuff soulmate theorem remained untested as far as Hum was considered.

“Hey, you’re not our prefect”, the blonde boy accused her then, looking from under Charlie’s arm. He was visibly distracted by the Weasley’s charming smile though, the _I-won-five-Quidditch-cups-in-a-row_ one.

“You’re your own prefect”, Charlie observed blithely, ushering him gently out. Crummie Haig, Hufflepuff’s fifth year prefect, Hum remembered now. Met him on holidays once. Awfully posh kid.

“Come on, you know _they swap_ ”, his companion sighed, moving out of the cupboard with a cat-like grace. He stood a good head taller than her and Charlie, unrepentant in his crinkled clothes. “Well, in an attempt to salvage our reputation we bid you good night. Battenburg. _Weasley”_.

The pair passed them and soon disappeared, unbothered. Last of the torches were quickly dying out, now enveloping the corridor in a slow spreading, velvety-violet shade. Hum felt as if she could just curl herself into a ball and sleep inside the cupboard till the afternoon.

“That was intense”, Charlie observed lightly after a beat of silence, sidling into the newly freed space with a breathy laugh. He patted the weathered wood next to him and gave Hum a wide smile.

“We’re not really the better ones here”, Hum chuckled but slid in after the redhead eagerly.

“You know that suave Slytherin? I have to admit, he was commanding”, Charlie asked, pulling the door more or less closed and Hum shrugged noncomittaly; he looked somewhat familiar. Her back pressed into Charlie's chest, the cupboard was a bit too snug for comfort - perfect for illicit activities.

“I thought _you_ knew him, _Weasley_ ”, Hum mimicked how Charlie’s name rolled off the boy’s tongue then, testing if she could take some pointers off of her younger colleague and feeling Charlie shiver slightly as she curled at his side. “Are you wearing _slippers_?”, she added with a muffled chuckle. He took his beloved dragon booties to study; her sultry tone had turned into a delighted squeal in the end at this.

“He captains your team, if you haven’t noticed”, Charlie informed her, gathering the girl into himself a bit closer, chin on top of her head. “Not that I have much time to follow the game now”, he added darkly. 

Hum caught his hand and kissed his knuckles briefly. “I only cared for the game when you played it – and even then not much. But _you_ matter to me. I’m sorry you had to give up” she said simply and twisted in his arms, a steady hand on his cheek and eyes boring into his, their verdant green illuminated by a thin ray of light seeping in from the doors left slightly ajar.

“It’s what it is. I have dragons to chase”, Charlie said in a clipped, determined tone and Hum nodded at him seriously as her heart skipped a bit. She thought to the room way above them and to her unfinished undertakings – she could understand Charlie’s determination.

He wasn’t ever coming back to England after this.

Charlie’s sweet scent filled the cupboard and Hum gave his jumper a sniff; it smelled like powdery icing on Penny’s cookies and she buried her face in the comforting softness of the fleshy material. She could hear the dragon snout tips of his slippers tapping against the cupboard door now and couldn’t help but snort affectionately.

“I hope our sacrifices will be worth it all in the end”, she whispered.

“I don’t plan on sacrificing all”, Charlie added quickly but Hum didn’t really hear him, buried deep into his jumper – and her own head. Tomorrow would be an important day for her progress, she should probably rest sooner or later.

Charlie shifted onto his side slightly then, hugging her tightly. “Don’t lose yourself out there, Hum”, he rasped, a bit alarmed. It wasn’t the first time when she rested like this, a bit unresponsive.

“I’m not”, she corrected him quickly, lifting her head up finally. “Just thinking that I’d much rather kiss you than be sorry our life is moving on”.

“You’re free to kiss me long after it’s finally moved, too”, he added jokingly as Hum climbed upwards, responding to his sleepy smile with one of her own. The redhead breathed in sharply at her cold fingers dancing beneath the hem of his jumper, arching into her with a muffled moan as they slid upwards. “Unfair”, he seethed but met her eagerly halfway with a content sigh.

Sure she didn’t have much (any) experience in that department to compare, but it felt _good_ , if a little unhinged, to kiss Charlie, ever more hungry and curious. Their lips felt dry against each other, chapped from the February frost outside and hours spent in the greenhouse - but the comfort was unparalleled, kicking Hum’s heart into a frantic race she could feel mirrored against the thin shirt Charlie had underneath his jumper. There it was then, her belly on wild fire this time.

The girl twined her hands surely around Charlie’s neck, feeling the rough skin tickle her where he was kneading small circles on her lower back, pressing her into him ever further, legs parted. She kind of wanted this touch up front after that, like the last summer, but got distracted by a whispered plea for a deeper, wetter kiss, a big weakness.

“Gods I’m happy to oblige that”. With a chuckle Hum kissed one corner of his lips, then another, and then put her finger on his lips, prying them a tiny bit. “Wider-”, she whispered playfully, pressing into him, tongue sliding against his with relish. It was still new, still a bit uncharted and that called to the cartographer in her specifically. 

She felt safe and stable in this place where they couldn’t be found easily, and as Charlie pushed himself to sit, Hum shifted her legs to grip his back, not really mindful over Tonks’ skirt riding over her thighs. The biscuits were far more important not to get squished.

They stayed like that, deeper, exploratory kisses peppered in with chaste ones, the playful ones over the eyebrows, on the neck, the clavicles, down the throat- those were joyful and refreshing, exultant. They weren’t in any rush, and no clothing was lost.

Just when they separated to take a breath, eyes a bit glazed from hazy sleepiness, a paper plane slid between them, unexpected – and scathingly sharp.

“Bloody hell”, Charlie rasped, clicking his tongue as Hum allowed the piece to unglue itself from her own and watched it fall down limply, nonplussed. “I have got a paper cut from this. You too?”.

“It’s our friends, probably still onto another sleepover”, the girl observed, nodding at the same time. Wonderful way to cut their kisses short. She could bet the message was Tulip’s idea though, and she looked forward to a possible sleepover with a friend who had been equally sneaky recently. She could stomach a cut like this. “Another one will come, or more. Let’s hope no one shows up”.

Charlie mussed his hair in frustration, face petulant but it evened out quickly when he looked onto what she was reading aloud.

“ _Hum, stop moping around in the library and come to our tower. Tonight belongs to the Eagle. Bring the errant Weasley if you find him along the way_ – T”, Hum read the message and cackled. She did find an errant Weasley indeed. 

Shortly after a second missive landed neatly on Charlie’s outstretched palm; an elegant paper bird, crimson and gold in colour. Surely Andre’s creative hand.

“ _Charlie, stop sleeping – or pretending – and come to Karasu’s domain. Everyone will be there_ ”, the redhead read with his brows furrowed and sighed with exasperation, eyes rolling. “He didn’t sign it, the buffoon”.

“Didn’t have to, you knew right away, didn’t you?”. Charlie and Andre seemed to communicate through osmosis at times. Tellingly, none of their friends had provided the answer to the blasted riddle that awaited them.

They each folded their message and exchanged a tired glance. _Are we doing it?_ hung in the air and Hum thought that tired or not, she wanted to see Tulip tonight – today, as it was. Rowan would be there too, and cuddling with her two other best friends looked like a wonderful prospect. She would probably wake up with a dramatically curled moustache drawn on her face if Tonks was in there – but that was part of the parcel. She would sneakily cuddle to Charlie at some point too. Maybe sample that saltwater taffy Penny had perfected last night – it gave most colourful dreams as a side effect.

Charlie looked similarly in thought, likely thinking about all the fun things they could do with all the friends present. He scoffed to himself in amusement and caught her stare, giving her a warm smile and a wink.

“Think they’ll have Penny’s leftover sweets in there?”


End file.
